The Enemy's Daughter
by girl-from-a-small-town
Summary: Peter meets a girl at college, and no matter how encentric she is, he can't help but fall for her. However, she seems to know about Narnia, and he suspects that she has close ties to one of his former enemies.
1. Chapter 1: The Odd Girl in Class

Peter looked down at his schedule. English history was in fifteen minutes, and since he didn't have anywhere else to go, he headed over to the class early. Only one other student was in the classroom, a girl pouring over a large textbook in the last row. He sat his books down in the front row, but before he could pull out his chair, the girl said, "I wouldn't sit there if I was you."

He turned to her and wrinkled his eyebrows. "Why?"

"I heard that he spits," she said in a low voice.

"Oh, thanks," he said before he picked up his books and went to the back row. "I'm Peter Pevensie."

"Jane White," she said as they shook hands.

"I'm a sophomore," he said as he sat down next to her. "What about you."

"The same," she said.

"I'm from Finchely," he said as he tried to be sociable. "Where are you from?"

She shrugged. "Here and there," she said. Before he could ask what she meant, she asked. "What are you majoring in?"

"Literature," he said. "What about you?"

"Mathematics," she answered.

"Are you going to be a teacher?" he asked.

"No!" she said irritably.

"What else is there with mathematics?" he asked.

"There are all kinds of things! What is there with literature?" she demanded haughtily.

Their conversation-which hadn't been going too well- was interrupted when the professor came into the classroom. Soon other students started filling into the room, and the two sat in silence until the class was finally over. She left without saying a word.

* * *

Peter hadn't planned on sitting next to the irritable Jane White again, but his Shakespeare literature class had went long so he was the last one in the class. Much to hid dismay, the only set left was the set next to the tall blond-haired girl. "Hello," she said. "Early, are we?" she asked sarcastically. He glared at her. "Sorry."

"Aren't you a math major?" the girl sitting next to Jane asked her.

"Yes," Jane answered.

"Then why are you in a history class?" the girl asked with a giggle.

"Elective," she said as if it was obvious.

"Isn't math only for men?" the girl asked.

"It's not for the weak," Jane snapped.

The girls laughed before turning around. Peter felt sorry for Jane, but she seemed not to care. "My friend said that the School of Science didn't accept women."

"True, but my tests scores were better than any of the men who applied," she told him. "In the end, they had to let me in."

"Because you were better than all the boys?" he asked.

She smiled. "Of course."

"White! Pevensie!" the professor yelled. "Am I interrupting your conversation?"

She looked up at him. "Not at all, sir."

"I'm sorry if I offended you yesterday," Peter whispered.

"No problem," she whispered. "I'm just tired of people asking me if I'm going to teach."

"Hey," Peter said as soon as the class was over. "Do you want to go grab some coffee?"

She looked startled. "Um- sure," she said as she pulled on her coat.

"I know this great café," he told her. "It serves the best bread."

"I think I know which one you're talking about," she said.

"Really? Which one?"

"Why don't we just see?"

"So, do you have any brothers or sisters?" Peter asked as they walked through campus.

She shook her head. "No, thankfully, if I did, one of them might have turned out like my mother, and no one wants that."

"What do you mean?"

"My mother," she said with a sigh. "One of her was more than enough. So, what about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Two sisters and one brother," he said.

"Older or younger or both?"

"Younger, I'm the oldest in my family."

"It must be nice," she said more to herself.

"What?"

"Having a family," she said as if it was obvious.

"Everyone has a family at one time or another," he pointed out.

"Not me, not really."

He dropped the subject. "Here it is."

"Jordans. I could have bet money."

"Because it's the best?"

"Because it's the best."

He held open the door for her. "Chivolorous are we?" she asked almost mockingly.

Peter smiled, not quite knowing what else to say. Getting to know Jane White wasn't going to be easy.


	2. Chapter 2: Running Away

"Hey, Peter," Andrew Parker, Peter's obnoxious roommate said as soon as Peter entered the dorm room they shared. "I heard that you've been dating Jane White."

"I wouldn't exactly call it dating-"

"Did you two, you know?"

Peter wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion before realizing what his roommate was talking about. "No, she's a lady, not a tramp," Peter said slightly repulsed by his roommate's crude behavior. Sure, Peter had the same increased testosterone levels as all young men his age, but he had been raised that the activity his roommate often enjoyed was a private affair.

"She's weird-I don't know about a lady," Andrew muttered.

"My mother taught me to treat all women as ladies," Peter replied.

"But that won't get you any!"

"You're being crude," Peter scowled.

"I might be crude, but at least I'm a happy man. You look like you've lost your best friend half the time. If you engaged in the "activities" I do, you would have a little more spring in your step."

Peter sighed. A woman's company would not help lift the nostalgia he had felt everyday since he had told that he could never enter the land he called home. "I doubt that. I might be a little more disease ridden…"

"So you're the only person that Jane White has ever really talked to-"

"We don't exactly talk," Peter interjected. Even though they had went to the bakery to drink coffee almost everyday that they had English history, most of the time they sat in silence as they worked on their homework. However, Peter found the odd woman's presence oddly soothing dispite her quiet and introverted nature.

"Man!"

"I've already told you! We don't have that kind of a relationship," Peter said indigently.

"You need to take advantage of this!" Andrew exclaimed.

"I will not!"

"You should. Have you looked at her chest? It's amazing and that blond hair- I would love to wrap my hand in that, not to mention that the quiet ones are always the best in-" Andrew stopped mid-sentence and instantly paled as he stared at the doorway.

Peter spun around to see Jane herself standing in the doorway, looking shocked and rather hurt. "Here," she said as she shoved a paper in his face before he could say anything. "This got mixed up with my stuff." He recognized it has a paper he was writing for Shakespeare Literature. "I thought that I should return it."

"Jane-"

"Take the stupid paper!" she said pressingly. As soon as his hand wrapped around the paper, she bolted away.

"Jane, wait!" he called as he dashed after her. He cursed himself for choosing a room on the first floor as she swung open the door leading to the street. He knew that he needed to catch her now and explain things to her before she had the opportunity to let Andrew's words fester. She was faster than he expected, but he was a young man in his prime, and continued to chase her as fast as he could. It only took a couple of blocks for him to catch up with her. "Jane!" he reached out and grabbed her her, bring her to an unwilling halt.

"Let me go!" she cried.

"No! You need to listen to-" Peter was taken by surprise when she took her free arm and punched him squarely on the face. He momentarily let go of her, giving her the chance to run again, but this time, she only got a few more steps away before Peter grabbed her again, this time grabbing both wrists to keep her from punching him again. "Don't kick me," he said firmly.

"Let me go, Peter!" she said furiously.

"You didn't hear the whole conversation!"

"I heard enough!"

"I told Andrew that he was crude!"

"Yeah, right! When I was young, all people saw me for was who my mother was, and here all people see me as is the tall blond," Jane said angrily.

"I don't see you like that!" Peter exclaimed.

"Really? You haven't noticed my amazing chest?" she demanded, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, I'm not blind, Jane! But I also I'm trying to see you for who you are, but you don't let people in!" She tried to pull away.

"Because people are awful! I thought that maybe you were different, but I was wrong!"

"You weren't wrong! You were right if you were thinking about Andrew, but I'm not him. I can't be accountable for what he says. You said that you don't have any family, and everyone knows that you don't have any friends, which means that you have no one except me, and the thought of actually having someone scares the hell out of you, even if you don't realize that's what you're afraid of," Peter said.

"No, you're wrong!" she cried, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Peter?" Edmund's familiar voice said. Peter, who had forgotten about his brother's plans to visit, accidently loosened his grip, which Jane took advantage of the situation, and ripped out of his hands. He started to go after her, but Edmund's demanded voice stopped him. "What's going on? Why are you attacking a girl?"

"I wasn't attacking her," Peter said angrily has he ran his hands threw his hair.

"Than what where you doing to the poor girl?" Edmund asked.

"I was trying to make her listen! She's so stubborn!"

"She didn't look like she wanted to listen."

"I know that!"

"Why is your nose bleeding?" Edmund asked.

Peter reached up, and sure enough, his nose was bleeding pretty profusely. "She punched me!"

"She really didn't want to listen to you," Edmund said with a snicker. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! She overheard my roommate saying something pretty crude about her, and she thought that I was in on the conversation, but I wasn't!" Peter said irritably as he held his nose.

"Why do you care so much?" Edmund asked thoughtfully.

"She deserves to know that I didn't betray her trust! She has such a chip on her shoulder about something, and I'm not going to let this add weight to it," Peter said irritably.

"So what? She'll get over it," Edmund said calmly. "She seems like she can handle herself."

"She has no ability to connect!" Peter exclaimed.

"Then why are you even friends with her?" Edmund asked.

"I don't know. She doesn't ask me what's wrong all the time. She doesn't annoy me with stupid questions that I can't answer."

"About why we're kind of different?" Edmund asked.

"Exactly! Because she's considered so odd that she doesn't ask me about why I'm a little strange."

"You have odd tastes in women," Edmund muttered as they walked back to Peter's dormitory.

"Our relationship isn't like that," Peter snapped. "We do our homework together. I've only known her for a few weeks."

"Not to mention that she's not really your type," Edmund said. "You tend to like short brunettes."

Peter gave his brother an annoyed look. "I don't have a type."

"Not here. Here you all you do is a little flirting, but I remember in Narnia, you were considered to be quiet a charmer," Edmund said teasingly.

"You're making fun of me."

"What are brother's here for?"


	3. Chapter 3: Making Up

Peter knew that he needed to do something to make up for what had happened. He was embracing his spoiled childish side and was not talking to Andrew, but that didn't change the fact that the Jane wasn't speaking to him either. Every time he went to history, Jane would sneak in at the last moment and sit in the front row- the only place that wasn't filled. Every time Peter would sit down, a few girls would always manage to surround him. He had always appreciated his good looks before this, but now he wished that he had an extra nose.

Hoping to catch her off her guard, Peter decided that he was going to catch her when she wasn't expecting him. Calmly, he walked into student affairs and went to the middle-aged slightly cubby woman sitting behind the desk. "Ma'am," he said as he put on his most charming smile. "One of my friends dropped her book today as she was walking out of class, and I need to return it to her right away because we have a test tomorrow. However, I realized that I don't know where to find her after class hours."

The woman smiled. "How very sweet of you. I'll look up her address. What's her name?"

"Jane White," he said.

"Oh, I've heard of her. She's the math girl, isn't she?" the woman said as she looked through her files.

"I suppose that's her."

"I hear she's rather strange."

"Aren't we all?" Peter asked. "The war's changed all of us in some way or another." He didn't actually know why Jane was a little off, but the war was an easy enough explanation.

"Oh dear, poor girl. I didn't think of that," the woman said as her eyes filled with pity. "Here it is." The woman pulled out a vanilla folder with Jane's name printed at the top. She took out a piece of paper and wrote the address on it. "I hope that you're able to return her book to her. "

Peter looked at the address and recognized it as one of the aparenments on the edge of campus. It didn't surprise him. Jane didn't seem like the type of person that had a roommate. "Thanks. I sure I will."

He smiled as he basked in his small victory while walking out of the office. He headed straight to the apartment building- stopping only on a slight detour to buy flowers. Once he got to the building, he found that he couldn't open the door without buzzing up to her room, which he knew would result in her not opening the door and knowing that he was coming, so he waited on a bench outside of the building until on the tenants left. Fortunately, an elderly woman exited the building which gave him the perfect opportunity to run and catch the door before it closed.

He looked at the piece of paper in his hands that indicated that she lived in room 403. Knowing that he was only half done, he climbed up the four flights of stairs and found the room that had 403 painted in white on it's dark green door. Inhaling deeply, he knocked.

Only moments later, the door opened, relieving a none to happy Jane. Without hesitation, she went to shut the door on his face, but he quickly blocked the movement. "Can we at least talk?" he demanded.

"About what?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"You know what." She frowned. "I brought you flowers," he said as he showed her the yellow lilacs.

She smiled as she accepted them, "Thanks." She looked at him calculatingly and opened the door for him to enter.

"You don't want to talk someplace a little more public? I would hate to ruin your repreation," Peter said.

"What reputation? All I am is the weird blond girl," she retorted.

"Okay," Peter said as he stepped into her apartment. It was very small. There was really no living area, only a small kitchenette, a twin sized bed pushed against the wall, and a desk across from it. "I would have bought the flowers a long time ago if I knew they would make you actually talk to me."

She smiled sheepishly. "I love flowers."

"You don't seem the type. You seem so practical."

"I didn't see any flowers until I was thriteen. I was so amazed when I first saw them, and I haven't stopped being amazed," she said as she sat down on her bed.

He stared at her in shock. "How did you not see flowers until you were thriteen?" he asked in dismay.

"I lived somewhere very cold," she said simply.

"Where? Norway?"

She laughed. "Colder than that."

"Antarctica?"

"Someplace far from here."

"Which would be?" he asked trying to get a direct answer.

"It's been such a long time; I've practically forgotten," she said, still evading the answer. He sighed. Perhaps it had been one of the countries effected by the war. Where ever it was, he had a feeling that she wasn't going to tell him.

"Didn't you at least travel?"

Again she laughed, but this time, he could detect a hint of sadness behind her smile. "Our borders were sealed. No one came in, and no one went out."

"Sounds scary," Peter noted.

"Scary things happen all the time. Did you that there's being a communist uprising in the dutch indies?" she asked, completely changing the subject.

"I might have heard about it, but what does that have to do with anything?"

She shrugged. "I'm just saying that scary things happen everywhere and every day."

"That's kind of pessimistic," Peter said.

"It's what I tell myself."

"So how exactly did you end up here?"

"I was commanded to come here. It was thought that I would stay out of trouble if I was here," she said.

"Commanded by who?"

She yawned. "It was so long ago that it doesn't really matter anymore." Peter sighed in frustration. "Why are you here?"

"I'm from here," Peter answered.

"You're from the university?" she asked with wrinkled eyebrows.

"No, I'm from Finchely."

"Okay, then why did you come to this university?"

"It was far enough away from home that I could get away, but close enough that I can go home on weekends if I want. It offered the major I wanted. I liked it's size."

"What do you want to do after you're done?" she asked curiously.

He sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. I thought about going into the army, but I don't like fighting with guns. I thought about becoming a defense attonry and helping those who are truly innocent, but since it's hard to tell whose who, I decided that that wasn't a very practical oppion. I thought about going into politics, but here, it seems all about who can come up with the most insulting words to use against their opponents, so I decided against that."

"You said that you don't like fighting with guns. What do you plan to do? Unsheth your sword and pull out your shield?" she asked almost mockingly.

"I'm used to a different time."

She studied him. "What are your siblings doing?"

"Susan is studying art. I think that what she really wants to do is to find a husband and organize parties and fundraisers," Peter said with distain. Susan had recently taken to ignoring the past events in Narnia and living solely in London. However, she didn't see that she was doing exactly what she did there, except she used to organize all of the events for nobles and visiting royalty, and now they were British college students.

"You don't sound very please," Jane noted.

"She's smart. She's wasting her talent. You're a feminist; you should be against this."

"I lived too long being controlled by someone. I believe a person should do what she thinks is best for her," Jane said.

Peter would have asked about who had controlled her, but he knew that she would answer elusively, so he didn't bother. "But she doesn't know what is best for her!"

"She'll figure out eventually. What about your other siblings?"

"Edmund is going to Oxford. He wasn't to be a judge, and he'll be great at it."

"Edmund the Just?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Peter stared at her in shock. No one except a Narnian had ever used Edmund's old title. "Yeah, I guess."

"Don't you have three siblings?"

"Yeah, Lucy is still in high school."

"So, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy," she said thoughtfully. "Sounds like a powerful quartet."


	4. Chapter 4: Looking for Something

"So she called me Edmund the Just?" Edmund asked over the telephone.

"Yeah, it's weird, right?" Peter asked.

"Kind of."

"I mean, you were only called that in "the country,"" Peter said in as quietly as he could seeing as he was using the pay phone in the dormitory.

"Wouldn't we have known if anyone else had entered into Narnia while we were there?"

"I don't know. She said that she hadn't seen flowers until she was thirteen," Peter said.

"That's weird. She would have had to be in Narnia during the White Witch's reign, and I think we would have heard if a human girl would have escaped the witch's eyes for that long," Edmund said.

"You're right. I'm just looking for people to say things that are associated with Narnia that I'm seeing things that aren't really there," Peter said as he tried to convience himself.

"Exactly."

"I need to stop looking for things associated with Narnia and live here. After all, Jane is odd enough without having been to another world," Peter said.

"This is the emotional cripple you told me about?" Edmund asked.

"Yeah, I finally convinced her to talk to me."

"Feel better?" Edmund asked.

"Yeah. I still wish that she hadn't heard that conversation, but I can't do anything about it," Peter said with a shrug.

"How did you make her cave?" Edmund asked curiously.

"I went to her flat and brought her flowers. That's when she told me that she hadn't seen flowers before she was thirteen."

"You went to her flat? Was there a caperone?" Edmund asked.

"Uh-no."

"Peter! You could ruin your reputation!"

"Ed. Calm down. We're not doing anything inappropriate. We just talked."

"But no one else can testify that."

"Look, I don't know anyone in the building and no one knows me, so it's not like they're going to run and tell mum," Peter said irritably.

"What about your professors?"

"What about them? They don't like in the same buildings that students live in."

"Oh, well, if it's a risk you're willing to take…"

"It is because there is no risk." Edmund sighed. His brother could be awfully thick at times, but there would be no convincing him otherwise. He knew as well as Edmund that vising a woman's house with out a caperone was strictly taboo.

"I have to go to a study session. Write me if anything else unusual comes up," Edumund said with a heavy sigh.

"Okay."

Peter hung up the phone. Edmund was right about both affairs even though Peter didn't want to admit it. There was no way that Jane could be Narnian. Very few people from Earth had entered the magical land, and when they did, it was always for a purpose. It wasn't exactly a prime tourist destination.

Edmund was also right that he shouldn't be going to Jane's flat by himself. If word got out, both of their reputations would be ruined even though Jane didn't seem to care, but as one of the few females in her field, she needed to hold a very high reputation if she wanted to be taken seriously. His visit to her flat needed to be a onetime affair.

The next time English history met, Jane showed up at her normal time rather than at the last minute, allowing Peter to sit next to her. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied as she pulled out her notebook.

"I talked to my brother the other night," Peter began.

"That's nice," she said, paying more attention to the notes she had taken during the last class period than to him.

"He doesn't think that I should visit your flat by myself," Peter said.

Jane turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Okay…"

"Your reputation would be jeopardized, and you name in the academic community would be tainted," Peter said matter of flatly.

"So you're trying to protect me?" she asked with confusion clear in her voice.

"Yes."

"From myself?"

He felt himself being lead into a trap. Telling a young modern woman that she needed to be protected from herself would mean instant furry. He needed to turn the conversation to his advantage. "No, from me."

"From you?" She tilted her head as she tried to figure out the meaning behind his statement.

"Yes, from how I might injure you honor."

"You think that I'd let you injure my honor?" she asked in slight disbelief.

"No! Not think that!" Peter said. He kept messing this up. He took a deep breath before saying, "Rumors might get started, and before you know-"

"Who would start the rumors?"

"I don't know. Someone who lives in your building. The point is-"

"Why are you people so dirty minded?" Jane demanded. "Can't people just think, 'oh, Penvensie and White are friends?' You English are quite distugsting sometimes. You're as bad as Cal-" She stopped in the middle of the word and her face turned deathly pale as if she had just slipped a major secret of the state.

Peter looked at her questioningly. "As bad as who?"

She was frozen in shock. She seemed to forget how to form sentences. "Uh-"

"Cal what?" he asked not being able to help but jump to unrealistic conclusions. Calamore was a very barbaric land south of Narnia and Archenland. They were known for being one of the few countries in that world that still used slaves, and most of those slaves were pretty women that were subject to powerful rich men's lusts.

"Californians," she said quickly as if the word just popped into her head. "Yes, California. I've read that the people there can be quiet wild."

"Ahuh," he said as he held her under a securitizing stare.

"Have you not heard of the wild parties there? After the war they seemed to let loose of civilization?" she asked rather unconvisingly.

He didn't reply; he just smiled at her rather terrible ability of lying. Her face turned red the longer he kept his bright blues eyes on her. "Stop it!" she whispered to him.

"Stop what?" he asked innocently.

"Stop looking at me like that!"

"Why?" he asked as he purposely provoked her.

"Because it feels like you're trying to see through me!" she said, irritation filling her voice and showing in her face.

He laughed. "I'm that talented?" A handful of their classmates entered to room unaware to the quarrel going on between Peter and Jane. Jane, who was known for her constant desire of privacy, shot Peter and angry glance before sitting down beside him. He leaned in a whispered in her ear, "don't want everyone to know that I can see through you?"

She jumped at the feel of his warm breath in her ear. "I said trying," she shot back as she tried to regain composure. "Not succeeding."

He grinned to himself as he wondered when was the last time anyone had seen this side, or any side other than the cool and ambitious academic, of Jane White.


	5. Chapter 5: Midterms

The weeks passed by, and Peter and Jane slipped into a retinue that involved going to class, the cafe afterwards, and then walking through the park once all of their homework was done. They chatted about music, current events, their classes, Peter's family, and about any other subject that didn't involve Jane's past or family. In fact, any time that he tried to bring up the subject, Jane immediately started talking about a class called Boundary Value Problems, which was apparently a pretty nasty course in the mathematics curriculum that she was currently taking. Just looking at her homework from across the table gave Peter headaches.

The week of midterms, Jane barely said a word to him and halted their walks. She poured over her notes, and whenever he told her to take it easy, she would merely shoot him a very dirty look before going back to studying. Peter didn't know whether her academic focus was helpful or annoying. After all, he was currently making straight As, but he was really getting tired of sitting. They both had their last midterms at the same time; Shakespeare lit for him and boundary value problems for her. His exam was scheduled to be three hours long, and her four, so when he finished his exam, he walked across campus to the mathematics hall and sat on a bench outside of the class room where she was. Several young men came out of the classroom while he was waiting and each glanced at him, clearly wondering what a literature major was doing sitting inside of the math building. Finally, Jane came out looking exhausted and irritated. "It went that badly?"

She looked up, a surprised expression on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"I got done with my exam early, so I thought that I would meet you here. So, how did it go?" She sighed and sat down next to him. "I don't know. I never know with this class. Sometimes, I feel like I did great and I end up doing horrid, and sometimes I think I did horrid and I actually did well, so I've given up guessing." She leaned her head back again the wall and closed her eyes. "How much sleep have you gotten this week?" he asked. She shrugged. "Not much," she admitted without opening her eyes.

He smiled to himself. "Come on, I'll walk you home," he said. "I'm fine here, thank you," she replied.

He laughed. "You can't fall asleep in the academic buildings," he said as he stood up and tugged on her sleeve. "Come on."

She moaned. "Do I have to?" Once again, he just laughed. She pulled herself to her feet and put her bag over her shoulder. "I can walk myself home," she said as they started down the hall. "I'm afraid that you'll sit down on the nearest bench and fall asleep," he said. "And then you'll freeze to death."

"I won't freeze to death. I'm a lot more used to the cold than I am to the heat," she said. "I think that everyone can freeze to death," he said. Now it was her turn to laugh. "If you saw where I grew up, you'd understand."

"I want to see where you grew up," he insisted as they exited the building.

"You can't," she said shortly.

"Why not? Are they socialist or communist or something like that?" he asked. This was only the second time she had ever said anything about her birthplace, so he was eager to learn more. She sighed. "The place that I was born in doesn't exist anymore, not really. The land was liberated."

"Aren't you happy then?" he asked. She didn't answer him straight away, finally she said, "For a couple of moments, I was overjoyed, but then, I found out that with the liberation came my exile."

"Exile?" he asked. "Didn't you say that you were only thirteen?"

"My mother was high in the former government- the government that was defeated. When she died, it was feared that her supporters would try to rally around me, so I was sent here where I couldn't cause any trouble," she said with a sadness in her voice that was barely detectable. "So you can never go back?" he asked in shock. She nodded. "I can never go back.

"You were a child when you got here. Where did you live?" "An orphanage. There were a lot of orphans made during the war, so no one thought twice when I arrived. It wasn't that bad. I was fed and had a roof over my head. At school, I had a teacher that took pity on me and lent me books to read, so it wasn't the worse childhood a person could have."

Peter didn't know how to respond. He had always had his family and couldn't imagine what it would have been like to grow up completely alone. "What are you going to do for the break?" he asked. "I told the owner of the cafe that we go to that I would watch the shop while he visiting his sister in the country," she said. "It's nice to have a little extra money. My rent and food is paid through grants, but it's nice to be able to buy other things. What about you? What are you going to do?"

He had never considered how Jane had paid her bills since she didn't have parents to help her out. He had almost been hoping that she didn't have any plans, but now that idea was moot. "Oh, I think that I'm going to go visit Edmund."

"You two are really close, aren't you?" she asked. He nodded. "Yeah, when we were younger, before he had to move to the country, we were always arguing, but the war brought us together," he said- he just didn't saw which war. Once they got to her building, she took out a key and opened the front door. "You'll have to meet him sometime."

"I've seen him once," she said as they started up the stairs. "Remember, when I overheard your horrid roommate talking about me."

"And you punched me?" He noticed that a sly grin suddenly appeared on her face. "I didn't do any permanent damage," she said as they reached her door. "Do you want to come in?"

He hesitated. He could almost hear Edmund's scolding voice, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave. "Okay."

She opened the door and went in first. He followed, locking the door behind him-after all, Jane didn't live in the best of neighborhoods. Jane dropped her bag to the ground and went into the kitchen. She didn't seem to notice that several items had slid out of her bag. Peter did a double take on the bag when he noticed that a stone blade was pointing out of the bag. He knelt down next to the discarded bag and gingerly pulled out the blade which ended up being part of a foot long stone knife. "Want a biscuit? I made some last night?"

She turned to find him holding the knife. "You carry a stone knife on you?" he asked in disbelief.

Jane visibly paled. "How did you-"

"It fell out of your bag when you dropped it," he answered.

"I-I'm a young single woman who lives alone. I like having protection," she moved to him and took the knife from his hands and placed it into the drawer of an end table.

"A stone knife is an odd choice of weapons," he noted.

She swallowed. "One of the other girls in the orphanage gave it to me, and I kept it with me ever since. It's not like I've ever actually used it." She pushed a sugar cookie in his face. "Here, have one." He took the cookie, but didn't eat it. "Besides, you said that you don't like using a gun. Well, I don't either."

"Uh-huh," he said, staring at her. "Well, it's getting late. I better head out."

"Okay, I'll see you after break," she said. "Have a good time visiting your brother."

Peter left the building, his mind filled with questions. How many people in England carried around stone knives, and the knife looked strikingly similar to the white witch's knife? How did the girl from the orphanage get ahold of it? These thoughts kept trailing through his head until suddenly he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, and his world went black.


	6. Chapter 6: You're all I got

When Peter came around, he was blinded by bright light. "Peter!" a comfortingly farmiliar voice exclaimed.

He opened his eyes to find himself in what looked like a hospital room. He reached up to the back of his head and felt a thick bandaged was wrapped around his head. Jane was standing near the foot of his bed looking at him with concern, making her brown eyes seem very doeish. "What happened?" he asked groggily.

"You were attacked. Some man hit you on the back of your head and stole your wallet," Jane said as she moved to the seat next to his bed. "You're actually very lucky. A little boy saw it happen and ran and told the police."

He rubbed his head. "I don't feel very lucky. Wait, how did you know?"

"The little boy lives in my building. He's seen you with me, so after he called the police, he ran and got me," she said.

"I'm glad you're here," he said.

She gave him a small smile. "Peter, you're the only person I have. Of course, I'm going to be here."

He reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad that it's me."

She wrinkled her eyebrows. "What?" she asked.

"I'm glad that if you can only have only person that it's me," he answered.

Before she could reply, the door swung open, and much to his dismay, his mother burst into the room. "Oh Peter, the university called me and said that you were in the hospital!" she said. She froze when she saw the scene before her.

Peter turned to Jane. "I called the university and told them what happened," she admitted. "Well, I'll let you two be alone."

Jane stood and moved to get her coat, but Peter gripped her hand tightly. "No, stay, your presence is soothing."

"What? We fight all the time," she pointed out.

He smirked and since he felt like having a concussion and being robbed gave him a get out of jail free card, he said, "I do it on purpose."

"What?" she demanded.

"I like to see you get flustered," he admitted.

She put her hands on her hips. "Peter!"

"See, you're flustered now," he said, obviously pleased with himself.

She frowned. "I'm going to go get a cup of tea," she said. "I'll be back unflustered."

"Unflustered? Is that a word?"

"I don't care!" she yelled back before disappearing out the door.

He smirked. "Um-huh." He turned to his mother who looked rather confused. "Who's she?"

"Jane White. She's in my history class," Peter said.

His mother raised an eyebrow. "She looks like a bit more than just someone from class."

Peter didn't know how to respond mostly because he didn't know what Jane and him where. He had had both friends that were girls and girlfriends before and Jane didn't seem to fall in either category. "We do our homework together," he finally said.

His mother still didn't look convinced. "You're not courting her?"

"I don't know if she would let me," he said honestly. "She's a mathematician, and almost all she ever thinks about is school. I don't know if she would even consider courting anyone."

His mother sat down. "Do you want to be with someone who would put her career ahead of you?"

"She doesn't know any better. Her parents died when she was young. She has no family. She grew up in an orphanage, so all she's had for years was her academics. If she hadn't had focused on that, she would have had nothing. So you see her as ambitious, but I see her as passionate," Peter said defensively.

His mother smiled. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know, mum." Jane reappeared in the doorway holding a mug of steaming hot tea. "Mum, this is Jane White, Jane, this is my mother."

Jane hesitantly stepped closer and held out her hand. However, his mother completely ignored the hand and threw her arms around the young woman. Peter had to stifle a laugh at Jane's terrified face as his mother embraced her. "It's nice to meet you Jane," his mother said before releasing Jane who was still visibly stiff.

"Um- it's nice to meet you too," Jane said slowly.

"So, tell me about yourself," his mother said as she said back down.

Jane sat down on the other side of Peter's bed. "Not much to tell, really. I'm a math major. I think that I want to go into actuarial work," she said matter of factly.

His mother glanced at Peter. "Jane's also a history buff. In class, she always seems to know more than the professor."

"Yeah," Jane said. "I love medieval history. Your crusades were fascinating and the 100 year war and-"

"Your?" his mother asked questioningly.

"Uh- I mean, western Europeans were mostly the ones involved. My family didn't immigrate until much much later, so they're not my crusades because my ancestors didn't partake in them," she said slowly.

"Oh," Mrs. Pevensie said with a look that showed that she was still trying to decipher exactly what Jane had said. "Where did your ancestors come from?"

Jane didn't look thrilled with that question either. "Oh, here and there. So, Peter tells me that you have three other children. That must have been quite the adventure."

Mrs. Pevensie smiled. Like most mothers, one of her favorite activities was talked about her children. "Oh, it was. It's hard to believe that Lucy is the only one still at home, and I wouldn't be surprised if Susan got married soon." She added a pointed glance towards Peter who turned pink.

"She has a boyfriend?" Jane asked.

"Nothing serious yet, but I can tell that she's ready to settle down," Mrs. Pevensie said. "What about you?"

"Am I ready to settle down?" Jane asked in shock. His mother nodded, and he wanted to hid in embarrassment. She thought for a long hard moment. "I don't know. I would be nice to have a home- to have a family."

"Then why don't you know?" his mother inquired.

"I guess that I'm afraid of being held back. I've spent the last seven years on my own without having to think of anyone else's hopes and dreams. Besides, I'm the weird mathematician girl. People see me as cold and calculating. I'm ambitious, and for a woman, that's a major flaw, so I'm not the girl that men take home to their mothers. I'm not the girl that men want to have children with. I'm the girl that they try to mooch off of to get higher in their careers. I'm not saying that they succeed."

Mrs. Pevensie looked taken back. "That's very pessimistic."

"It's honest, and being honest with myself is the only way to survive. There's no point spending my life hoping for something that with probably never happen." Jane didn't look sad or upset when she said this statement. No, she had a hard look on her face. A look that said that she had seen things and experienced things that no one her age should have, and worse of all, she had been through it all completely alone. Peter understood that this hardness was the only way she survived. "I better get back. I have to open up the coffee shop bright and early tomorrow." She turned to Peter. "I'll see you. If you're not back by the time school starts back up, I'll bring your books to you so you don't fall behind."

"I'm fine. I'll be back," Peter promised. She gave him a small smile before she left.

Once she was gone, his mother turned to him. "She doesn't know how you feel about her?" she demanded.

"I don't know how I feel about her!" Peter exclaimed.

"You're in love with her! I've never seen you like this. I've never seen you look at a woman that way. You're my son. I know you, and you're in love," his mother said. "And you need to tell her because she thinks that she's going to spend the rest of her life alone. A girl shouldn't feel like that when a man's in love with her."

"What if she doesn't feel the same way about me?" Peter asked his mother. "I'll loose my best friend."

"What's the alternative? Being close but never being with the woman that you're in love with?" his mother asked.

Peter sighed. "I suppose, you're right." He knew what he had to do, but the idea of doing it was more terrifying than facing the white which alone.


End file.
